


Space Mall Adventures

by pursuitofklance



Category: Ambiguously Gay Duo, Voltron: Legendary Defender, spoilers klance is the gay duo
Genre: Gift Exchange, Just Dance, Laser Tag, M/M, My First Fanfic, Platonic Relationships, Space Mall, Team Voltron Family, in chapter 2 at least, my other works were just shitposts, shout out to void daddy who mopped the void when nobody else did, sorry if i changed the spelling of acxas name like a thousand of times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pursuitofklance/pseuds/pursuitofklance
Summary: Takes place in the voltron universe where just dance and laser tag are still a thing and Lotor's gang is still taking notes of them and of Matt bc he's included this time.





	Space Mall Adventures

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for normalpancakes through the voltron discord server exchange. Happy Holidays! I know it took so long, but I was so excited when I got you as my giftee bc you were one of the very first few friends i made in this fandom??? Great times. Anyways, this is my first fic and it hasn't been proofread by anybody else yet so sorry in advance but I have read over it multiple times. But yeah. Here's all the romantic/platonic ships you listed being dorks. Hope you enjoy it! (ch 2 isnt done yet but expect there to be one oof wish me luck)

Ever since Hunk figured a way to set up some sort of gaming system after weeks of Lance’s sulking from how both Pidge and him had no way to play Killbot Phantasm 1, nights were much more lively in the castle. Weekly Mario Kart races were held as well as were Smash Bros tournaments and overall, it was just a great method of entertainment for the paladins to appreciate in between break times.

Yet, as fun as it was, Pidge grew to be tired of winning all the time while the rest shared the same feeling in having enough of her taunts, bragging and victorious remarks. _(“if you lose and I win, you’re treating us all to dinner” “game on Pidgelet”_ _one round later_ _“winner winner chicken dinner mATT”)_

Gaming brought on a pretty competitive side to her, but she agreed. They needed a wider variety in games. So as the team headed to Space Mall with different goals in mind to tackle and different errands to run, the garrison trio zoomed right over to the games section with Matt tagged along.

It wasn’t too long before they found a game they took interest in after digging through carts of hard covers and swiping through multiple discs. They popped it in the system for a test round.  

Words blared across the screen, lit up in bold letters that read:

 

_Just Dance Infinite: A Collection of all the Dances Throughout the Years_

 

The wii was set up with the remotes at the ready. The two boys took a moment to secure their safety bands around their wrists.

Lance zipped up his strap effortlessly as Matt continued to struggle with his. It’d been forever since he held one of these and there was a knot he had trouble getting undone.

Lance bounced on one foot before switching to the other as he tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck, eager to get the game started. He did a couple of quick stretches to warm up before he pointed at Matt who was now on the floor tying his shoelaces. “You are no match for me, surrender now or face the heat, Holt version 1.0.”

“Ah the ignorance of youth.” He shot him a look of pity, the strap finally undone and worn on him and his shoelaces, tied. ”Oh Lance.” He huffed, and though he hadn’t danced along to this game in years, he feigned expertise anyways. “How so very wrong you are, they don't call me the Lightning Holt for no reason.”

Chin cupped in one palm, Pidge lazily interjected, "Literally the only person that calls you that is you and you alone.”

"Okay _Pidge_ but he didn’t have to know that–” Matt snapped in hushed tones before he cleared his throat and redirected his attention back to his rival–“ _anyways,_ if there’s going to be anybody who’s going to _‘face the heat’_ it’s going to be _you._ You heard _that_ right, _McClain_ . These skills are WORTHY of fear.I have traveled to the mountains seeking wisdom from the Shaolin monks to obtain these skills.”

Lance faltered, in half-awe and in half-intimidation as he watched the older brunet strike kung fu poses. When he caught himself slowly lowering his finger, a renewed wave of confidence surged within him, stronger than previously before. He puffed up his chest to stand taller. “Oh yeahhhh?”

Then in a voice deep as the voice of the Kool-Aid Man he was referencing, Matt straightened his posture the same and nodded slowly. “Ohh yeeahhh.”

”Well I’ve spent every waking moment training,” Lance began, imitating Matt’s poses from earlier yet adding his own twist, "It was a physical struggle just as much as it was a spiritual one, I honed in the chakras of my inner being and in the process, I unlocked a new profound understanding of the world of dance as a result and figured how the movements are merely imitations of nature.”

His claims were met with suspicious squinting, but he only returned the same expression as Matt silently went through calculations in his head, trying to form some conclusion of what to gather of his opponent. Hunk and Pidge were in the area, eyeing them back and forth in anticipation of what was to be said or done next.

“Look, Hunk, two dorks fighting, this is rare.”

“I can’t believe this is coming from the same guy who gets out of breath whenever he puts on the bed sheets by himself.”

“Get the rest to come over they’ve got to see this.”

“You know what, I’m already on it.”  

They continued to stare each other down until finally, in a flurry of movement, Matt chose a song before Lance had the chance to react. An animated figure appeared on the screen as the beat started picking up in a rhythm strikingly familiar to him. Following afterwards was a countdown and then the lyrics which unmistakably belonged to an MC Hammer classic.

 

––––––––––––––––––––-

 

“Have we got everything we need?” Ezor inquired as Narti dropped the last item into their shopping cart. Or what was presumably the last. 

“Firm positive. My list is thorough and faultless,” murmured Acxa in response, her eyes glued on the aforementioned object, “I made sure to review it at least three times before we set off the ship. I can’t imagine we would be missing anything else.” She handed the paper over to Ezor to review, but she merely skimmed through it.

Shrugging and returning it to Acxa, Ezor decided she appeared assured enough in her words. Then again, they also barely made stops, especially in places as busy as the Space Mall, so it would be a long time before they would be chanced an opportunity like this to grab whatever was necessary or even desired... _hm....,what was the name of that scent again?_

“Moon berry blast. Extra shine.”

“Sweet Zarkon, I forget which shampoo brand he prefers every time.”

As they rounded the corner to enter the respective aisle, Zethrid was met at the end, dashing towards them. Raspiness and hastiness in her voice, it dwindled into a whisper, “Quick ladies, he’s a few aisles away. Take what you need then let’s hustle and bustle.”

But Ezor only yawned, unresponsive and unmotivated. She wailed and tucked her head into her arms which were folded idly along the cart’s handle. “But Zethrid, I don’t want to go, he’ll just come up to us and say– ” and in a voice intentionally meant to resemble Lotor’s accent, she shot up from her position to mimic him – “‘Generals are we ready to embark and set forth on our next journey?’ and then I’ll go ‘oh no boarding so soon already?’ when _really_ the _real_ question we should all be asking ourselves is why can’t we ever just take a break from all the missions and partake in any fun activities for once?”

Misinterpreting the pause as an opportunity to answer what was really a rhetorical question, Acxa parted her lips to speak but Ezor plowed on still waving her arms and ranting her case.

She whipped her ponytail around to face the each of them as she spoke. “You know how long it’s been since we’ve enjoyed ourselves?”

“Ezor..”

“Forever, Acxa, forever! I mean the last time we really got to bond like that was–” Her eyes rolled upwards to the ceiling as she tried to recount a distant memory from the past to substantiate her claim.

“ –The festival,” Zethrid finished, her eyes on the ground. “Oh I remember that night. No wuss could beat my record for how many melons could be crushed–” she let out a hearty laugh and planted a fist against her palm– “and all it took was the sheer strength of my thighs.”

Narti’s tail swished in nostalgic remembrance and an upwards curve played on Acxa’s lips, though it was faint.  It was a perfect night filled with so many festivities and memories made. It was a good way to bond and become closer with one another even when they could have been attending to other matters that needed taking care of. But in that moment, everything was forgotten. Every instance was just associated with pure– _bliss._  The feeling of wanting to live in that moment forever was mutually shared among all of them. _Would another moment like that exist ever again?_

Acxa hadn’t expected to dwell so long on Ezor’s statements, but when she glanced upwards she realized Ezor had caught her in her contemplation, because she was smiling in a way that implied she knew her words reached.

“Acxa?” She approached her watchfully with a voice as soft as her steps. “Do you remember that night?”

Acxa subtly nodded. How could she forget? "Y-..yeah–” she cleared her throat before adding more volume– “I mean, yes. Of course I do.” Her facial expressions softened and even though she knew that after this, they would have to return to their usual standard procedures in fulfilling their roles and accomplishing more duties, she allowed herself this single moment. “I recall this one point... during the celebration where Zethrid tried her hand at that hammer game and-”

“-striked it so hard that the bell itself went flying off into the distance?” Lotor turned the corner into the aisle they were in. “Great times indeed,” he stated as he took a shampoo bottle, titled ‘Extra Shine Moon Berry Blast’, and tossed it onto their pile of groceries.

“Prince Lotor, I-“

“At ease Acxa," he cut her off with a casual wave, "what are we all gathered around here for if it’s not to grab my shampoo bottle despite you all being so conveniently surrounded by multiple copies of it?”

Zethrid stepped forward. “Our apologies sir, we got carried away, reminiscing the good old times.”

Lotor inhaled, raising one eyebrow. “Ah I see. And are the current times not as good as they were before?”

“Oh no, they’re good. Productive. Although, just not as fun.” Ezor resumed her position, behind the cart, with her elbows pillowed on the handle once more.

“Fun? And how would fun aid us in our mission, do tell me, I’d be delighted to know. Enrich me with the knowledge of how _fun_ would aid us in achieving our purposes.”

Ezor shifted, now uncomfortable. “I have no words sir.”

“And you Narti?”

Narti shook her head.

Lotor nodded in contentment before he proceeded to swivel around on one ankle to leave, delivering the final words. “Then I suppose we should all get a move along once you ladies make your purchases.”

When he turned the corner once more, although to disappear from sight this time, Zethrid grumbled in what was supposed to be inaudible. “Oh I wouldn’t mind moon berry blasting your pretty self into space.”

But he whipped back into sight instantaneously, with his upper half twisted to face her only. “Can you repeat what you said Zethrid I don’t think I heard you quite clearly.”

“Oh noth- I.. “

In effort to switch topics on the spot, her senses honed in to observe her surroundings until something seized her notice. Something was growing louder in the distance. Something that wasn’t made as noticeable before until the whooping and cheering noises started to sound more animated and intense. Zethrid sneaked a peek behind the shelves and allowed the sound to draw her eyes towards one particular section of the store.

Two figures grooved with rhythm and energy- electricity coursing throughout their bodies.  _Like ribbons snapping uncontrollably in the wind,_ Zethrid found herself thinking.

A closer look and Zethrid observed the two brunets, nearly matching in height, with sweat sticking closely to their hair and skin.

“Prince Lotor, I believe that’s..” she squinted in doubt, “I believe we have located the paladins of Voltron.”

“Is that so?” Lotor walked to where Zethrid stood as the rest of the generals followed suit. “Alright then. Change of plans. We follow them and leave no traces of our presence behind. They shall not even be aware that we exist.”   


––––––––––––––––––––-

 

_Fresh new kicks and pants_

_You got it like that now you know you wanna dance_

_So move out of your seat_

_And get a fly girl and catch this beat..._

 

This was accompanied by a sequence of dance moves repeated and imitated by the two competitors as they tried to keep up in time in order to collect the most points. Overcome by their determination to achieve winner status, the area was now silent except for their small grunts as their elbows tore through the air in swift movements and their arms left their bodies.

The entirety of their beings advanced in movements with blazing ferocity yet absolute control at once. Throughout the song, they added their own flow, freestyling as they punched the air and spun around with dramatic flair.

Being the one to break the silence, Allura unintentionally muttered aloud to herself, “Since when and where did Lance learn to move like that?”

Lance’s ears grew twice their normal size as he leaned towards her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Impressive, huh.”

Coran added on, speculating. “I’m not quite sure, but it’s fascinating. This melody. And this song is called.. You cannot touch ‘this’? But exactly what can one not ...touch?”

“Good question Coran but it beats me,” Lance murmured absentmindedly, barely even yielding any regard for Coran’s words, “and, to answer your question Allura, I guess you could say I’m a man of both mystery and hidden charms.” He flashed a toothy grin.

“Wait no what I am-“ Matt tried to say, finally having his attention divided from the screen.

But unfolding his arms, Keith interrupted _(in what shiro observed was a bit too sudden but it was none of his business he guessed)_ , “Whatever. It’s _simple_. It’s just a bunch of copying down _simple_ moves shown on the screen.”

Lance halted his actions. Matt continued to gear through the motions, more concentrated than ever before as he tried to make up for the lost points he sacrificed when Lance flirted with Allura, which had ultimately distracted him and thrown him off his groove. And now it was Lance losing the points, groove being thrown off, when Keith rolled his eyes at him.

“Yeah? And you think dancing is simple? Like this is some kind of– _ordinary_ feat reserved for _mere mortals_ ?” Lance sputtered in an exaggerated display of befuddlement. Shaking his wrists loosely as he awaited the musical climax, he planted his eyes on Keith’s, gave a quick nod upwards and simply stage whispered, “Watch this about to happen.” 

 

_U can’t touch this_

_(oh-oh-oh-oh-oh..)_

_U can’t touch this_

_(oh-oh-oh-oh-oh..)_

 

 _Break it down_  


And it was as if all hell broke loose. The music intensified as the notes warbled in rapid alternations. Lance held solid eye contact with Keith the whole time, while the others, namely pidge and hunk specifically, whooped and cheered around him. Allura covered her eyes as Coran’s jaw dropped as low as Lance was able to dip his weight and swing his arms before him at chest height. 

Matt gave a quick sidewards glance at Lance, curious to see what was summoning all the commotion before he whipped his full attention back to Lance, bewildered to see him on the floor in a full split this time around. “How are you getting more points than me–   _those aren’t even the moves_!” 

Ignoring him, Lance tilted his chin, emitting an unwavering aura of confidence in his own abilities, “Can your science explain THIS, Keith?”

Followed by jumping up and down to the beat, and swaying from one side to the other, Lance clapped in time to the beat, movements perfectly in sync with the rhythm. Pidge and Hunk followed in suit as they hollered and clapped along, forming a circle around Keith and Shiro, with Lance eyeing Keith almost as if he was expecting an actual answer.

For the second Keith almost let a laugh escape on his lips, Lance smiled a bit back, but then he simply turned to Shiro in utter rebellion to acknowledge how deliberately annoying Lance was being only to discover that Shiro was thoroughly enjoying this.

Shoulders trembling from full blown laughter, Shiro met Keith’s look of betrayal with a _“well–  can it Keith? Go on. The guy’s waiting.”_

And it's not that he wasn't enjoying Lance making a fool of himself. He wanted to laugh along with his jokes. He really did. It was just that he was more adamant on refusing to admit just how much of a skilled dancer Lance was. Why? Well. The truth itself was-which Keith would never openly admit to it being- _was_.. _that no_. His 'science' could not explain how good of a dancer that Lance McClain was, proving there was more to dance. Having nothing else to say, Keith watched Shiro double up as the man clutched his sides for dear life until he felt Lance's smug gaze leave him.

When he shifted his attention back over to Lance, he could see that he was now occupied in his own world, shimmying and laughing. “My moves are a divine force baby, they were granted by the gods so I could flaunt what I got! Woo!”

Matt, on the other hand, started to become more sluggish as more time progressed and as the same energetic moves got more repetitive. He was beginning to slouch, panting and muttering, “I-i don’t got it i don’t got it i don’t got it...” over and over to himself in exhaustion.

And by the end, Matt gave in, retiring to a nearby furniture on display as Lance emerged victorious: the one and only winner.

The groans expressing the loser’s defeat were drowned out by the commotion of Hunk’s cheers of praise for his best friend.

“...heeeeeee’s ONE of a kind. thEEeeEEE EIGHTH WONDER OF THE WORLD.” Hunk bellowed as Lance distanced himself in order to get a running start as he started to barrel his way over towards him. “THE MAN–”

“–THE MYTH–,” Pidge added, imitating an announcer’s voice as well.

“–THE LEGEEEEEND. IT’S _LANCE_ . FREAKIN’. _MCCLAAAAIN_!!!”

Lance jumped into Hunk’s arms as he carried him bridal-style and whirled him around, Lance’s limbs flying freely.

He dissolved into gleeful laughter as Hunk continued to shoot out more compliments at such a rapid pace it all began to sound like a running list of phrases such as “the tweets are tweeting the hashtags are hashing...” here and there along with “make way China for the new great wall of Lance!” thrown into the mix as well.

Fascinated, Allura and Coran continued to marvel at the screen and back between the two dancers, commenting amongst themselves about just how much Earth dances differed from Altean moves.

“ – And did you see how amazed Keith was? It was impressive! You practically stunned him into silence and-”

Unfolding his arms and interrupting once more _(which again shiro still thought was a bit too sudden, which he observed was funny because he only gets so riled up around a certain somebody, but like before, that was none of his business he guessed),_ Keith corrected Hunk’s claim by stating, “Amazed? Sure. I never knew you could even dance, but whether I’m impressed or not is a different subject. It’s nothing I’ve never seen before.”

Pleased with the way Keith seemed to be bluffing from Lance’s perspective, he nudged him in the sides with a smug grin plastered upon his face. “Admit it you’ve never seen moves like these before in your life!” Before Keith could say anything in response, Lance shushed him. “The truth is you've always been the best at everything in your life you’re peeved that I actually managed to impress you and you're jealous you can't move like me–   _say it keith._ ”

He stared at him, baffled, not knowing what to say nor think.  _Yeah_  he could admit Lance was a great dancer but admitting he was jealous? There was no such thing? Where did that even come from anyways?

Shifting in place as his mind reeled in desperation trying to come up with a fast response so that Lance couldn't possibly interpret his prolonged silence as a "yes I'm jealous but won't admit it" for an answer, Keith crossed his arms tighter. “W-Who ever said I couldn't move like _you_?” He felt his face heat up in embarrassment from the unintentional stutter and crack in his voice. 

Thankfully ignoring that, Lance leaned in closer, cupping his hand to one ear. “Hm. Not what I expected to hear. Try again.”

Keith cleared his throat, which made it seem as if he was only trying to ensure that Lance would hear his next words more clearly but in actuality, it was a way to recover from his previous slip-up in stumbling upon his words. It was a way to regain confidence–  except, perhaps it was more confidence than he needed, because he could have sworn the next thing he said slipped out of his tongue before it could catch his notice.

“I can move way better than _you_ can.” _That was a lie. What in space, am I doing. Uhhhh, shoot. Quick Keith think up of something that rhymes with ‘can’ then you can act as if he misheard it. No, Lance I said…’ILYSM stands for I love you spiderman.' ...Wait. What._

Lance neared closer, interested. “ _Oh so you can_?”

“Yes I can.” _Another lie. Come on, man. It’s not too late...‘Young man there’s no need to feel down, I said ...young man’?_  He groaned internally. Whyyyy _am I so bad at coming up with things._

“No you can’t,” Lance plainly stated.

“Yes I can.” _And another. Ugh. What’s that thing Pidge says again.. something something just according to keikaku translator’s note keikaku means plan._

“No you can’t.”

“ _Yes I can_.”

The two narrowed their eyes at each other.

Keith didn’t know what it was that made Lance so sure that Keith couldn’t possibly move as well as he could. In fact, forget there being anything more to dance. It was just a bunch of copying down simple moves shown on the screen. Whatever. Simple, right? Nothing more, nothing less. So _why_ did Lance doubt him so much and _what_ had made him _so_ sure that Keith couldn’t do anything as _easy_ as that and _as well_?

It peeved him.

“No you can’t,” repeated Lance more slowly but with Shiro this time, the latter facepalming with heavy disappointment.

Snatching the other wii remote from the stand, and shooting a “shut up Shiro I can do this” look towards the black paladin, he declared once again in a more serious tone bearing heavier meaning and weight. “Yes. I. Can.”

The closer Keith’s  eyebrows knitted closer together, the more slanted Lance’s smirk sloped. They were closer in proximity now and neglecting to dismiss eye contact even if for just a tick, Keith clicked the shuffle option, leaving it to the fates to decide what song would eventually accompany the ultimate dance battle to end all dance battles, the competition of a lifetime and what would permanently imprint a mark on history itself.

The playlist swooshed before them in a vague mixture of colored stripes as the dance was still being decided.

“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood and you’ve made a mistake choosing to follow this path,” Lance remarked in amusement spawned by the self assurance he had in attaining victory.

Keith’s expression faltered, a slight pout of confusion. “Was that supposed to be a Robert Frost reference?”

He nodded in approvement. “I see you are well versed in your classics, but knowledge is not what will save you now, my sweet sweet sunflower child.”

Keith turned to squint at him, even further more confused. “I’m.. older than you, why am I a ‘sunflower child’.”

“I’m sorry Keith it is what it is I don’t make the rules ‘round here.”

“But-“

“Sweetsweetsunflowerchildsayswhat.”

“Wh-“

“Exactly, now sh it’s starting!”

An animated figure popped up on the screen, signaling the beginning of the countdown to a song Keith had certainly heard about before.

He squinted at the title, attempting to recall any information about the song and why it seemed to nag him at the back of his thoughts.

It didn’t hit him until he heard Lance’s squeal that the reason it bothered him was because this was a song Lance would always refer to whenever he talked about being homesick. Basking beneath the sun upon the sands of Cuba’s beaches, stuffing in mouthfuls of garlic knots and absolutely devouring them even when his mother tried to stop him (“Lance! Control yourself!” “I’m sorry ma I can’t help myself it’s just so good I would take a bullet for garlic knots” “ _Who would shoot garlic knots_ ”) – it was apart of it all. Lance’s most memorable memories. And it included: being crowned undefeatable at this one particular song in Just Dance and being especially known to show no mercy to anybody– _even towards family_.

So of course it bothered him even when he didn't recognize it completely at first sight. Subconsciously, he knew he was done for. It was Lance’s favorite song to dance to. It was a song he masterfully knew. A song that would make Lance right and send Keith looking like a fool by the end of it all.

He regretted his words. He should have kept his mouth closed. He should have let Shiro stop him from doing...whatever he was about to do. _Quiznak...I don’t even know what I’m doing I don’t even know how to play this game._

He peeked over at Lance whose eyes were now burning with fervor yet also gleaming with a hint of self satisfaction towards the screen. Then, he directed his focus the same and gulped, bracing for what would inevitably lead to a shattering defeat.

The silhouette of a cowgirl on the screen tipped her hat and with that, the song began.

A suspicious smile crept upon Lance’s lips. “Get ready to get ‘rekt’, _playaaa_.”

 

 _If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe_ _  
_ _I'd been married a long time ago_ _  
_ _Where did you come from, where did you go?_   
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?

 

The first couple of points were missed by Keith because he struggled so much to fall into synchronization with the dancer. Not only that, but because he failed to realize the importance behind properly securing the remote’s band around his wrist, it went flying elsewhere during the lasso move.

Luckily for him, the wii remote hurled towards Shiro, who had caught it and passed it back over to Keith with a stern look of disapproval contorting his features. Grinning sheepishly, Keith gave a slight shrug and immediately returned to the game with his remote back in his grip yet strapped on his wrist this time.

He glanced over at Lance, half expecting to hear some sarcastic remark or receive some sort of arrogant smug; but he was immersed in the game, absorbed by concentration. His eyes were wide open, unblinking. Keith checked the top of the screen and observed that Lance was gaining ahead by a few hundred points, hitting one “perfect” mark after another– what Keith guessed was his reward for consistent accuracy. Already starting to feel his hopes for victory waning but his frustrations rising, Keith was spurred by a sudden drive to catch up to his rival as much as he could.

He switched glances between the screen and Lance, attempting to match his efforts, but it was all to no avail. Because he tried to follow Lance, Keith was lagging behind, either missing a move entirely or receiving an “ok’ mark consecutively. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong, however. He was dancing. He was moving the same way both the cowgirl and Lance were moving. Maybe it could’ve been the remote or the sensor that wasn’t working properly. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. _This game is stupid, I’m so stupid, I should’nt have opened my mouth._

When it came to do so, according to the commands, Lance stomped on the ground, but Keith stomped harder. _Take that floor. And that. And that. And–_

“Patience yields focus, Keith,” sighed Shiro.

_But I am focusing._

He squinted at the western themed dancer and tried to match his moves with hers instead.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths._

Ignoring Lance completely, he tried to focus on strictly only the screen instead and the moves that were being displayed. He figured he could get more points if he– _wriggled the remote around a little bit more…?_

As he hoped it would, it did give him more points, giving him the idea that all he was lacking before was energy in his dance moves. He noticed he had been stiff this whole time, so he inhaled and exhaled, loosening up to move more appropriately.

He hunched his shoulders in a square-like fashion as his arms swung to his sides from the hinges of his elbows. It was confusingly weird at first, because it required a swinging movement of the legs as well, and seeing Lance dance in that way was funny enough to make him laugh.

It wasn’t very often that the team of Voltron got to witness this side of Keith, so everyone eyed each other in startled curiosity, not speaking a word until Lance, who was previously engrossed in the dance, wondered aloud. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” he beamed, “you just look funny.”

Allura burst out a giggle, before she clasped both hands over her mouth. Keith was still beaming until Lance quirked an eyebrow at him. He was beaming until he realized what the others were probably thinking– that Keith was making fun of Lance, teasing him to get a rise out of him when he was genuinely laughing at how silly the move was itself. Before Keith could make a sputtering goof out of himself trying to explain himself, Pidge snorted.

“You _both_ look funny,” smiled Pidge as the sound effect of her recording device went off.

“Oh, _Pidge–!”_ A ping noise sounded from the game, jerking Lance’s attention back to the screen in the middle of his sentence. He yelped and drew out a lengthy groan of agony. “I missed the gold move!!”

Face lighting up, Keith repeated the stomping motions with less harshness. The gold move had placed him closer to Lance’s score and suddenly he wasn’t feeling so hopeless anymore. Instead, he was enjoying this which he hadn’t made a distinct observation of until he found himself cheering in the clapping sequences.

The others faced each other again in wide-eyed fascination, but Lance only hummed softly, “This is my favorite part too.”

“Hm?” Keith responded. “What was that, Lance? Getting tired already?”

“Pssht. I don’t get tired. I get results.”

“Looks to me you’re slowing down.”

“Slowing down?” He rolled his shoulders. “Yeah right, I’m only firing up.”

Keith’s eyes brightened in response, lips deviating from the smirk he once had and instead curving faintly upwards to form a smile he kept to himself. He had to admit he was enjoying this too.

As the same moves repeated themselves, Keith only became more consistently accurate, achieving the same perfect marks Lance had received from the very beginning and throughout the game. The gold move Lance had missed but Keith had gotten really helped and Keith wouldn’t have tied with Lance at the end without it.

By the time they finished off with the last gold move, both were panting and staring at the screen in mixed feelings of accomplishment, weariness and disbelief at the score. They continued to stand there until they were finally able to catch their breaths. Lance fanned himself with one hand as Keith tied his hair back into a ponytail, revealing a sheen of sweat coating the nape of his neck.

Once Lance dropped down to lay spread-eagled on the ground, with Keith following in suit, Coran wandered over, clapping slowly as Pidge crouched by Lance’s side to poke him to which she only received a fatigued moan as a response.

“Alright lads! That was a fair match! Well done– both of you, but now it’s time to get up and running.”

“ _Oh_ yeah, uh-huh,” agreed Hunk as he hung Lance’s arm around his neck to help him up, "we’ll get the game and head back to ship once we-”

Lance mumbled something barely even audible, causing Hunk to pause.

Unwrapping his best friend’s arm from his shoulder to get a view of him, he asked, “I’m sorry bud what was that?”

More mumbling.

“Yup,” he muttered, popping the p, “you’re kinda gonna have to speak more clearly Lance, I’m having trouble with hearing you properly.”

From a voice as equally worn out but a tad bit more comprehensible, Keith expressed his agreement as Shiro tried to hoist him up off the ground the same way Hunk was struggling to do with Lance. He gently swatted away Shiro’s hand, who only returned a puzzled look of concern as a reaction, before he got up on his own, sitting cross-legged on the floor now. “Best two out of three determines the victor.”

“Oh no.” Hunk whispered, letting Lance slip back onto the ground where he rolled himself up into a ball, only mumbling more muffled sounds of approval.

“ _No,”_ firmly glared Hunk.

“But we have to,” protested both Lance and Keith, weakly.

“Lance– Keith..,” uttered Allura.

 _“It’s the only way I can rest in peace,”_ reasoned Lance.

“It’s really not,” corrected Pidge.

“Do it Keith! Avenge me! I have faith in you,” cheered a more energized Matt who suddenly sped-crawl his way back out from the depths of despair he was previously wallowing in from his defeat. “Woo!” He clapped. “Finish what I started!!”

“Please don’t,” stated a tired Shiro who just wanted all of this to be over so he could retire to bed with his favorite pair of comfortable socks worn on. How he longed for his bed.

But it was decided. Once Keith and Lance shakily overcame their first obstacle in actually getting up to dance again, they nudged each other, teasingly.

“Getting tired, Keith?”

“Pssht,” he answered with a wave of dismissal as the beginning of Deee-Lite’s ‘Groove Is in the Heart’ started to play, ”I don’t get tired.” They assumed their stances, stepping from side to side as they turned their hips in unison with the dance commands. “I get results.”

 

–––––––––––

 

“For goodness sake, how long are we going to be waiting here,” groaned Zethrid as she hurled a tennis ball across the aisle after tossing it up in the air for the 250th time.

“This is only their twentieth song,” shyly added Ezor, lifting her shoulders up a bit.

“Yeah, this is ‘only’ their _twentieth_ song out of an infinite amount of songs, because they’re never going to stop tying,” she grunted before she rolled over on her back.

They were all positioned on the floor, seated behind shelves of books now instead of hair care products because it situated them closer to observe the Voltron paladins better. Zethrid had been occupied with a tennis ball for all rounds while Ezor had been twirling her hair in a daze. It was really only them that hadn’t been heeding any attention to Voltron when the others have contrastingly been this whole time. Lotor was spying through the slits of the shelves with a binocular in his hands – _which was rather unnecessary considering how close they were to the paladins with a whole shelf being the only barrier separating the two teams_ , observed Acxa, who had been seated alongside him– while Narti scribbled down notes behind the two of them.

“Worry not,” Lotor intoned, setting down his binoculars to rub down his temples, “Our efforts will not go unawarded. We will have our results and every single detail we gather will be of use in our inevitable confrontation with Voltron. Speaking of details, Narti, what notes have we gathered so far?”

Acxa beckoned Narti to hand over the journal, but she parted it wide open for everyone to view in the space between them as Acxa read out its contents:

 

  * **__NAMES + INFO:__**


  * **_‘Lightning Holt’_**


  * _Is the only one who calls himself that according to Pidge who may be his sister? Brother? His younger sibling._


  * _Was referred to as Holt version 1.0 by Lance. We do not know his name._


  * _Obtained dance skills by some ‘Shaolin” monks._


  * **_Lance_**


  * _An adept dancer, quick on his feet, although...very dramatic personality wise...see next point._


  * _He claimed his moves were a “divine force” granted by “the gods” so he could “flaunt” what he “got” (?????)._


  * _Probably shouldn’t be messed with the most considering how well he can move._


  * **_Keith_**


  * _Was referred to as a sweet sweet sunflower child raising so many questions:_


  * _1\. what is a sunflower?_


  * _2\. do these sunflowers bear children?_


  * _3\. was keith, himself, born from a sunflower?_


  * _His science cannot explain Lance’s dance moves. I don’t think ours can either._


  * _There is something funny going on between them...rivalry?...and possibly something else._


  * **_Yellow_**


  * _??? His name was not mentioned._


  * _Strong. Was able to effortlessly spin around Lance when he jumped into his arms._


  * _Seems to be a close friend of Lance._


  * **_Pidge_**


  * _Other close friend of Lance who teases him for fun._


  * _Pretty loud for her height...she cheers like a foghorn._


  * _Must be Holt version 2.0._


  * **_Black_**


  * _His name was not mentioned either._


  * _Seems the most mature. Muscly. Interesting hair._


  * _He is tired and you can see it in his eyes._


  * **_Allura and Coran_**


  * _The Alteans. Everyone else has funny looking ears._



 

 

As Acxa read out Narti’s handwriting, the others hummed in contemplation, moving their heads in a nod of agreement to every line and then. There were a few instances when they would actually speak out but really only just to give a small “aha! That is very true,” such as when Acxa was reading out Lance’s notes, which carried the implication that the guy was not to be taken lightly. And though the notes were decent, they did not provide enough information, and it wasn’t due to a lack of competency in Narti's assessment skills.

“We won’t learn anything worth learning about them just through only _two_ members _dancing_.” Zethrid huffed, rolling over to groan once more. “Yes Lance can dance but we aren’t challenging Voltron to a dance battle.”

“Hmm, speak for yourself,” joked Ezor, lightly.

“No yeah I get what you mean,” said Acxa before she turned to Lotor and continued, “Sir, with all due respect, we _could_ be doing something else much more productive right now rather than sitting here in the aisle of a huge grocery store watching a group of kids play around.”

Lotor kept his eyes on the notes, letting his chin tuck comfortably into his hand. He did not choose to snap or respond immediately. Instead, he was still. He was thinking. The expression that had settled upon his features was an expression of deep thought. He allowed a few more ticks to elapse before he finally cleared his throat and declared, denying to give so much as a glance away from the paper material, “Yes.” He sighed and straightened up. “You are right. I am afraid I have now grown horrendously tired from the two of these absolute idiots. Let us purchase our items and go home.”

When they stood up– with Lotor being the first so he could check if his shampoo bottle was still in the cart just to be extra sure– they paused. They heard _silence_. An indicator of Voltron’s absence. In the distance, they could still pick up footsteps and chatter. “Follow them,” pointed Lotor as they all abandoned their shopping cart to follow his orders.

 

 

 

 


End file.
